


I Know It’s a Sin (But Tell Me It Happens)

by MercurialTenacity



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Altenate Universe - Ilvermorny, Anxiety, Credence just wants someone he can trust, Crying, Dark!Graves, Dissociation, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Explicit kissing, Extremely Dubious Consent, First Kiss, Implied Past Abuse, Kissing, M/M, Misplaced Trust, No Sex, Not Romance, Panic Attacks, Rape/Non-con Elements, Religious Guilt, Studying, Themes of Wizarding Supremacy, Underage Character(s), Vulnerability, he doesn’t get that, it's a thing, this is not going to end well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-19 15:35:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9447755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercurialTenacity/pseuds/MercurialTenacity
Summary: Credence loves the magical world.  He really does.  It’s just that sometimes, he’s not sure he belongs there.  That’s why he’s so grateful to have Percival as a friend.  He has so many questions about magic, and… and about other things.  Even if some of the things Percival say don’t sound quite right at first, they always make sense once he explains them, and Credence is just glad to have someone to turn to for guidance.  Percival is just looking out for him.  Right?Credence is from a no-maj family and feels a bit lost at Ilvermorny, and Percival is a pureblood student who takes advantage of Credence’s trust and isolation.  Heed the warnings.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Because no actual sex occurs in this fic, I have chosen not to use the archive warnings. However, please be aware that even though nothing goes beyond kissing/making out, this is an activity that Credence does not feel fully able to make decisions about or say no to, and Percival knows this. Consent here is extremely dubious at best. Additionally, both Credence and Percival are underage. Percival is mentioned to be taking upper-year exams, and Credence is younger by an unspecified amount. If any of these things are of concern, please take care and consider reading something you will find more enjoyable.

Credence settled deeper into the cushions of his armchair, watching the fire absently as it burned low across the common room. It was late, but he knew it wasn’t late enough to justify his distraction. He should be grateful for any time Percival was willing to spend helping him, and he knew how important his schoolwork was. It wasn’t that he was bad at his lessons, really. His professors actually told him that he was doing well, all things considered. It was just that even now, everything still seemed so unfamiliar. He’d thought all of his prayers were finally being answered when he first found out he was a wizard, but now… Now he was just grateful that Percival was willing to explain things to him and guide him through the world of magic. 

He did know that he was better off now, and he was grateful, he would never argue about that. Magic just hadn’t turned out to be, well, the magic fix that he’d thought it would be. But Percival made him feel like he was someone special, even if some days he felt like he was more fit to be an ordinary no-maj than a great wizard. Percival put up with a lot of his questions, really. Credence could tell that everyone else eventually got tired of his confusion. Even his professors tired of talking to him, though several of them had assured him that a rough transition was to be expected and that having questions was normal. They didn’t really ever tell him to stop, but Credence knew that adults had better things to do than talk to him, especially about what they considered the most mundane aspects of everyday life. And the thought of what would happen if he was so annoying they didn’t like him anymore made him feel sick. 

So he took most of his questions about magic – and, well, about everything really – to Percival. It wasn’t like Percival wanted him around all the time either, but Credence understood, and he was grateful for whatever time he got. Percival had plenty of friends in his own year, other purebloods who he must find far more interesting than Credence. But sometimes, late at night or when his friends were occupied with something he deemed uninteresting, Percival would take Credence aside and tell him about all the fantastic things in the magical world, help him through his homework, and answer almost any question he could think to ask. It really did make him feel different – Percival didn’t spend time with other students below his year like he did with Credence, and Percival was just about the only person who didn’t seem to be spending time with him out of a sense of obligation.

Tonight was one such night, though with exams looming most of their time so far had been spent working on their own precariously balanced stacks of homework. Well, Credence’s was precariously balanced. Percival’s, though larger, managed to be ordered neatly by subject and due date. Watching him cover role after role of parchment in ink made Credence terribly apprehensive about the upper year exams, but somehow Percival still found time to pause his writing if Credence needed help practicing a particularly difficult transfiguration spell, or working through the obscure definitions in his potions textbook. Credence knew he owed it to Percival to concentrate on his work, especially tonight with so much to do. But he found himself instead, again, watching as Percival’s quill made quick movements back and forth across the parchment. If he was honest with himself, he knew why he was so absent minded. He should just ask. He knew he should, Percival wouldn’t mind. He’d thought about asking for weeks now, and he’d even tried once before, but the words had gotten mixed up and caught in his throat and he’d had to quickly make up a question about cheering charms. But tonight he should ask. He wasn’t getting anything done, and Percival… he didn’t think Percival would mind. He didn’t think so.

“All right, Credence?”

Credence jumped a little, startled to see Percival watching him. He… well at least he wouldn’t be interrupting if he asked now. He’d do it. He would. “Percival, have you…” He was suddenly aware of how loud his heartbeat was in his ears, and he found he couldn’t think about much besides what it felt like pounding at the walls of his chest. After a second of silence Percival raised an eyebrow at him. “Have – have you ever kissed anyone?” The words fell out of his mouth quickly, and he felt his face heating up.

Percival huffed out a laugh and shrugged. “Well sure, Credence, everyone does. Why do you ask?” 

Credence shrugged and cast his eyes down, even as his heart mercifully started to slow. “I-I heard some fifth years talking and I – Well, people talk about it a lot actually, but – but I don’t really know why.”

Percival gave a vague gesture with his quill. “It’s just nice. It makes you feel good.” There was something in Percival’s voice that Credence didn’t quite recognize. He sounded thoughtful, maybe, but somehow different than he usually did when thinking through an answer to one of Credence’s questions. Credence didn’t think he sounded upset, though. He hoped not.

“Good… how? Does it make you happy?”

“Credence.” Percival inclined his head slightly, fixing Credence with a look. “It’s not really something you can put into words. It’s not fair to expect someone to describe it.”

“Oh.” Credence felt the all too familiar sinking in his stomach as Percival turned back to his parchment. _Please don’t be angry, please don’t be angry, please don’t be –_ “I – Okay, I –” Credence broke off. Percival continued his writing.

If Credence thought he was having difficulty focusing before, it was nothing compared to now. He tried to concentrate, he really did, but he couldn’t help his glances up at Percival, trying to catch a hint of his expression. Was he angry, or just concentrating on his essay? Would he mind if Credence needed more help with his transfiguration spells before the test, or would he finally tell Credence he’d asked too many questions? Should he pretend it never happened? Should he apologize? Credence could feel his heart speeding up again even though the tight, hot contracting of his chest threatened not to leave it room to beat at all.

The cycle of increasingly horrible possibilities mounting in his head – which had reached right up to failing all his classes without Percival’s help and being thrown out of the school to live with no-majs – was interrupted by the scrape of Percival’s chair sliding back. “I suppose, I could just show you.”  
Credence’s heart did stop beating then for a second, and he stared at his parchment with his breath caught in his throat.

“Neither of us are getting anything done with your fidgeting, and I don’t see how else to do it. And anyway,” Percival’s tone smoothed out, and as Credence risked a glance up he saw a frank and – perhaps – affectionate look forming. “If you really want to know, Credence, I will show you. You’re special. You deserve it.”

Credence stuttered worse than ever, trying to force out words though he had no idea what he was trying to say. He – well, maybe he wanted to, he wasn’t sure that he _didn’t_ want to but – he hadn’t thought about it. He didn’t know he should have. Percival leaned forward in his chair, looking earnest, hands clasped and forearms resting on his thighs. “Well?” If – if Percival wanted, then – 

Credence nodded, and if he still looked a little uncertain, well. It wasn’t like he could take it back.

Percival stood, and before Credence could fully take in a breath he was standing close in from of him. His hands rested heavily on Credence’s shoulders, massaging gently, thumbs stroking just under his collar bone, and Credence felt his heartbeat accelerating again. It wasn’t like Percival had never touched him before – he often wrapped an arm around his shoulders to help calm him down, or took his hand to guide him through the wand movements of a difficult spell, but this… Credence couldn’t say how, but it wasn’t quite like that. “Relax, Credence.” Percival placed his right hand under Credence’s chin, encouraging him to look up and meet his gaze. “Just hold still. Let me show you where you need to be.” Percival’s left hand kept moving on his shoulder, and his right slid around to cup the back of his neck. “Alright?”

Credence nodded a little, as best he could without pushing against Percival’s hand. “Alright.” His voice sounded funny, like he couldn’t quite get his throat to open all the way.

“Relax.” Percival’s left hand brushed his cheek, and then for a moment he was just watching Credence with an expression that he didn’t recognize, and he wasn’t sure if he was breathing because all he could focus on was Percival standing in front of him, and Percival’s hands holding him. And then Percival’s thumb was resting on his bottom lip, pressing down gently but firmly until Credence’s lips were just parted. Percival tipped Credence’s head back, leaned down, and before Credence had quite taken it all in he’d pressed their lips together.

It felt… well, there was pressure, and warmth. Credence could feel Percival’ breath, and there was a sense of too-closeness that he wasn’t sure he liked. Overall, he still didn’t – He – There was something hot and wet tracing along his lips, and – was that Percival’s tongue? It left a slight tingly, buzzing feeling under the skin of his lips, and he felt his mouth relaxing as – as Percival’s tongue ran over his lips in long, slow, gentle strokes. Was this what Percival meant about feeling good? The tingly feeling in his skin? It felt strange, but yes, it did feel good. He didn’t want it to stop, anyway.

And then – oh. Percival was pushing his tongue between Credence’s lips, into his mouth, and it had felt nice before but this felt so _strange_. Credence’s head jerked involuntarily, he didn’t mean to, he just wasn’t entirely sure his mouth was supposed to have two tongues in it, but Percival helped him through it, helped him be still. Credence was just starting to adjust to the sensation when Percival flicked the tips of their tongues together and, oh, that did feel good. His mouth went slack and loose, opened up by the movements of Percival’s tongue across his own. The cushion was shifting under him, the angle of the kiss was changing, and Credence was pressed back into the armchair with the weight of Percival’s body on top of him, straddling him. His tongue kept flicking back and forth across Credence’s, and then slipping deeper and Percival was licking him _inside_ , setting Credence’s whole mouth tingling as Percival sealed their lips together, and he was glad for Percival’s weight on him because without it he might just float right out the window his head felt so light. He let Percival push him back, tip his head farther up so that his tongue could reach in deeper, and even if Percival hadn’t told him to let it happen Credence didn’t think he was in any state of mind to control his own body anyway. Percival’s hands slid slowly down his neck, over his shoulders, under his arms until they settled to circle his waist, thumbs caressing just under his ribs, coaxing out soft gasps which Percival captured in his mouth. Everywhere Percival touched him set off tingling deep in his skin and Credence felt himself pushing his body forward, wanting Percival’s hands to touch him _more_ – 

Credence’s whole body felt hot under Percival’s touch, like something was filling him up from the inside and radiating out, and he hadn’t felt anything like it before, but… something clicked into place in his head and he thought – he knew – he _knew_ what it had to be, he should have known, how many times had his mother told him? The heat inside him curled into something dark and writhing, and he hadn’t meant to, he – he hadn’t _realized_. He tried to pull back but there was nowhere to go while Percival was pressing him into the chair, the only thing he could do was force his head to the side, but then Percival was kissing tingles down his _neck_ – “Perc – Percival! _Percival!_ ” He was gasping raggedly, stomach twisting up in knots, and then Percival was cupping his cheek, turning his head back, and had pulled away just far enough that Credence could look at him without going cross-eyed. “It’s a sin, Percival, isn’t it? It’s a sin, it—”

“Shh, Shh.” Percival’s hand was stroking his cheek, and then his arm was circling his shoulders and he was cradling the back of Credence’s neck. He pulled him in close, guiding Credence’s head to rest on his shoulder and speaking softly in his ear. “Of course not. Of course it isn’t.”

“But my mother told me –”

“Shhhh.” Percival’s hand was stroking firmly down the back of his neck, and Credence couldn’t help but breathe a little deeper. “For no-majs maybe. Not for wizards. Not for us.” And Percival was looking deep into his eyes again with such a sincere conviction that for a second Credence almost wondered how he could have doubted.

“Really?” Credence wasn’t quite sure how that could be true, but… but maybe it was.

“Really. Shh, really. You don’t have to live by their rules, Credence, not anymore. You know what you are now, you can take your rightful place here, among wizards. No-majs are a backwards society, Credence. They say magic is a sin, but you know it’s not. You’re not bound by them anymore. Don’t you remember you’re special?”

And slowly, Credence felt his breathing settle. He nodded. That did make sense. It – it did, the way Percival said it. Of course it did. He wasn’t a no-maj, after all. He was a wizard. 

“Did you like it?” Percival was stroking his hands down Credence’s spine until he was rubbing little circles into the small of his back, holding him steady, holding him secure.

“I – Y – yes.”

Percival’s arms encircled Credence, and he let himself be drawn forward to fold against Percival’s chest, head tucked under his chin. When Percival brought their lips together again it was slow, and deep, and Credence let his mind go blank until he was sinking, grateful for Percival’s hands guiding him, holding him. Keeping him safe.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are not going to get any more consensual from here.

Credence was late turning in his potions essay.  It was his own fault, he really should have paid more attention to his work last night – Percival had been willing to help him all evening, after all, and he’d known it was due.  He wasn’t the first person in class to miss a deadline, but that didn’t make him feel any less guilty.  If he worked on it through lunch he’d be able to bring it to Professor Howlett’s office right after classes and then it was only half a day late, and his grade wouldn’t drop too much.  It probably wouldn’t.  He could finish it well enough without Percival’s help, Percival was always busy at lunch anyway, and then he’d be sure to work on it without… without being… distracted.  Still, he hated disappointing his professors.  Maybe he’d turn in his next essay early to make up for it, to prove that he took it seriously.

As it turned out, Credence didn’t see Percival at all that day.  Well, he did briefly, as he sat in the common room that evening and Percival and a few of his friends climbed up to their dormitory, but not in any way that involved talking.  Or touching.  Or eye contact.  And yes, Credence had wanted some time alone, and no, Percival didn’t spend time with him every night, but he couldn’t help feeling like something had gone horribly wrong.

The weekend left Credence a bit aimless without the schedule of classes.  He saw Percival across the hall at breakfast, and later in the common room, but every time he did his heart inexplicably started beating painfully hard in his chest.  Once he thought Percival was trying to catch his gaze, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet it.  Not when he’d have to face… well, whatever it was he’d see when Percival looked at him.  This weekend, he decided, would be best spent at the library doing as much homework as he could carry.

He threw himself into it with an intensity precariously close to recklessness.  He was hoping, perhaps, that if he surrounded himself with enough books it would shield him from any thoughts other than those of the academic variety.  It nearly worked, too.  There was just the one flaw that whenever he ran into a paragraph he didn’t understand, a spell he couldn’t perform, he thought of asking Percival about it.  He did get a lot accomplished that weekend – finishing his charms annotations, practicing that one tricky transfiguration spell, even starting his next potions essay, which wasn’t due for a week, so that he knew it wouldn’t be late – and overall, he did feel a bit better without as much schoolwork looming.

Credence was rather absently practicing turning his slippers to rabbits and back again, with moderate success, when he finally allowed his thoughts to settle on Percival.  He didn’t know why exactly thinking of Percival now made his stomach clench and his heart rate pick up.  He’d liked what Percival had done, it had felt good, and he’d never felt as… as cared for as he had with Percival holding him.  He was grateful to Percival, really.  And… he wanted it to happen again.  He wanted Percival’s hands on him, Percival’s lips on his, Percival’s arms around him, and it was just too much to consider that he might not feel that way again, that perhaps it had only been done as a favor.  Percival had seemed to like it at the time, but… did Credence really know that he hadn’t done it just to indulge him?  And if so, wasn’t it horribly selfish to want it again?

By the time the librarian finally shooed him out on Sunday night, after he’d already stayed twenty minutes longer than he was supposed to, Credence simply wanted to go to bed as quickly as possible.  What he was not expecting when he walked into the common room, his arms full of parchment, spare quills, and spellbooks, was to see Percival.  He was sitting in one of the armchairs by the fire, an open book in his lap, and when he looked up Credence thought that perhaps he looked pleased to see him.  But Credence stopped abruptly, and Percival’s expression flickered, changed to one of… concern?  Credence wasn’t sure.

“Credence, what’s wrong?”  Percival was looking into his eyes, frowning slightly, and despite the tight knot forming in Credence’s stomach some part of him couldn’t help but be glad for Percival’s caring.  He didn’t know how to answer the question though, not to himself and certainly not to Percival.  Percival’s eyes fell on the pile of books and supplies in his arms.  “Is it your schoolwork?”  There was an openness to his gaze that any other day, perhaps, would have made Credence feel better.

Credence shook his head, eyes darting up quickly before casting his gaze down.  “No, I – I have some questions, but – I’m ahead, actually.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Percival closed his book.  “Credence.”  His tone was patient, knowing.  “Is this about the other night?”

Credence flinched, but he owed Percival a response – he was trying to help, after all.  “It – I just – I didn’t know if, if I – ”

“Relax.  Shh, it’s alright.”  Percival was out of his chair now, placing a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently.  “It’s just kissing, Credence.”  Percival looked bemused, as if he couldn’t quite grasp how Credence would think of it as anything else. 

It hadn’t felt like just kissing.  It hadn’t felt like _just_ anything.  But… what _had_ he thought it was?  He knew that some people kissed because they were dating, and he certainly hadn’t thought _that_.  Percival had described it as “fun” at first, and that didn’t seem very dramatic, or very complicated at all actually.  And all of a sudden Credence couldn’t quite remember why he’d built it up to be anything more.  So yes, maybe it was just kissing.

Things more or less went back to normal after that.  They worked on spells and essays, talked about magical creatures and where exactly one might look for a bowtruckle, Percival explained the finer points of wizarding high society, and Credence scarcely let himself wonder if _just kissing_ meant _just once_.

It was three days later, six since the original thing of it – not that Credence was counting – that Credence found himself staring down a cushion, wand in hand, and utterly unable to convince it to move an inch.

Percival stood beside Credence in the empty classroom, his right hand supporting Credence’s wand arm and his left resting on his waist, muttering instructions and encouragement into Credence’s ear.  “Give a sharper flick – that’s it, good.  Try again.  You’ve almost got it, Credence.”

Credence wasn’t sure if Percival realized, but the fingers of his left hand kept stroking over the dip in his waist.  Credence… didn’t want it to stop, he liked it, but he also suspected it was the reason he couldn’t make his wand do anything more useful than issue wisps of black smoke, no matter how sharp his flick was.  They’d been at it a quarter of an hour now, and he thought he was probably closer to setting his cushion on fire than to banishing it.  Still, he had to try.  With a deep breath, he did his very best to picture the cushion flying backwards off the desk. 

“Depulso!”

The smoke trailing out his wand tip seemed to drift farther away, at least.

He turned his head to tell Percival he couldn’t do it, or maybe just that he needed a break, but the words never left his lips.  Percival’s gaze had dropped to his mouth.  There was a heavy pause during which neither of them spoke, and Percival’s gaze didn’t flicker.  He became aware, at some point during that moment, that Percival’s thumb was tracing little circles over the back of his right hand, and that Percival’s other hand had moved from Credence’s waist to trace a matching pattern into the small of his back.  The feeling of Percival’s fingers was sinking deep into his skin, making his whole lower back sensitive and tingling.  His awareness narrowed to his points of contact with Percival, dimming everything except the sensation of Percival’s hands and the beating of his own heart.  Relief flooded through him like letting out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, so glad that Percival would touch him again, that he got to feel this good more than once.  It occurred to him, in some fleeting part of his mind, that he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to stay standing.  Percival was stroking up his spine, drawing the feeling of almost liquid warmth up through his whole body, tracing along his neck, brushing his cheek, and Credence’s breath was already catching as his thumb traced over his lips.  All Percival had done was touch him but it lit up his entire body.  Percival’s hand found the back of his neck, and Credence – he wasn’t prepared, exactly, how could he ever be prepared for Percival Graves kissing him?  But something in the moment sharpened, intensified, and this time he knew it was coming when Percival’s lips met his own.

The warmth that spread through his mouth was immediate and deep, and expecting it didn’t make it less intense.  The angle was a little awkward with his head turned over his shoulder, but it didn’t matter with Percival’s tongue parting his lips.  The heat and pressure, while not familiar quite yet, were extremely memorable, and Credence had a dizzying sensation of repetition.  Only this time Percival didn’t wait to use his tongue.  Credence was vaguely aware of Percival taking his wand from his now-lax grip and turning him so they were properly face to face, wrapping an arm tight around him and pulling him close against his chest, their bodies pressed together.  And here with Percival’s arms around him, held secure and safe and floating with the sensation of Percival’s tongue, it seemed like nothing else in the world really mattered.

Credence felt Percival sliding his tongue back and forth over his lips, dipping between them just enough to make him open his mouth wider in want, but always retreating again before reaching his tongue.  And Credence did want more, but he also wanted to relax against Percival and enjoy the gentle, wet strokes over his lips.

He nearly tripped when Percival started maneuvering him backwards, and threw his arms around Percival’s neck to keep himself from stumbling.  Percival held him tight, steadying him, and in a few quick steps Credence felt his back thump against the wall.  It made him gasp, Percival’s mouth still covering his own, and he struggled to get his breath back.  Credence felt a touch at his neck, and Percival was stroking over his throat, over his collar, and then Percival’s grip tightened on the knot of his tie.  He felt a tug, fabric sliding around the back of his neck and then his tie was gone, another tug as the top button of his shirt popped open, and Percival’s finger was circling the hollow at the center of his collarbone.  Somehow all it took was one button, and Credence felt as though he’d been laid wide open under Percival’s touch.  He was stroking up the tendons of his neck to brush the curve under his jaw, sliding back down to his collarbone, and up again, until all Credence could keep track of was the rhythm of his hand.  Percival’s fingers stroked down the center of his chest, slipping lower until his palm was pressed against Credence’s stomach, and finally he felt Percival’s tongue meet the tip of his own, slipping between his lips and lighting up his mouth.

Credence moved his own tongue in response, pushing forward to run it over Percival’s, hands reaching to grasp more tightly around Percival’s neck, kissing back this time, and he didn’t quite know how it was supposed to work but it felt _good_ – but Percival was pulling away, and Credence tried to follow, tried to lean forward, but he couldn’t when he was pinned against the wall.  Percival wasn’t that far away, he was close enough that their lips were still nearly touching, but Credence found it an unacceptable distance.

“Relax, Credence.”  Credence made another aborted attempt to bring his head forward, but Percival just held him firm, hands pinning his shoulders back.  “Shhh, shh, let me do this for you.”  One of his hands moved to the center of Credence’s chest, a firm, steady pressure.  Credence’s heart was beating loud and fast under Percival’s palm.  “Let me take care of you.”

And that did sound nice, but so was reaching up to meet Percival’s tongue with his own. 

“Don’t you trust me to take care of you, Credence?”  Percival was too close for Credence to see his expression properly, but his tone was open and questioning, and Credence – Credence wasn’t sure if he had imagined it mixed with slight disappointment.  But he did trust Percival, of course he did.  He nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak as Percival gently brushed his hair back from his forehead.

“Then let me.”  Credence could feel Percival’s breath on his lips as he spoke.  “This is for you.  You know you deserve it, don’t you?  Do you remember why you deserve it?”

Credence glanced away, not quite wanting to answer the question somehow, but Percival’s hand on his cheek stilled him, brought him back, and he nodded again.

“Tell me.”

And Percival had told him just six days ago, sitting in the common room with a look on his face like it was God’s truth, whatever God meant to Percival, told him he deserved it because –  “I’m special.”

Percival’s lick over Credence’s lips caught him off guard, and he opened his mouth to make room for Percival’s tongue but it was gone just as quick.  “That’s right, Credence.  Tell me again.”  He could feel Percival’s chest rising and falling heavily, and there was a deepening in his voice.

“I – I’m special.”  He liked when Percival said it, it always made him feel good, valued, hopeful even, but repeating it was different somehow, and he – he wished Percival would just go back to kissing him now, kiss away the words twisting in his mouth –

“Again.”

Credence shut his eyes, couldn’t bear to look at Percival’s face, couldn’t stop the feeling of Percival’s breath on his lips.

“Again, Credence.”

“I – I – ”  Credence was gasping, couldn’t seem to take in a full breath, couldn’t understand what was so hard about saying two words, and why, why couldn’t Percival just be holding him.  “I’m sp – special.”

“That’s right.”  Mercifully, _mercifully,_ Percival pressed his tongue past Credence’s lips, and Credence couldn’t seem to make himself let go of Percival’s shoulders, clinging to him like he might come apart without something to hold onto.  He was shaking, he hadn’t even realized it, but he was shaking under Percival’s hands, grateful to feel them running down his neck, his open collar, smoothing over his shoulders, then down his chest, waking up his skin everywhere they touched, and by the time they’d settled around his waist his breathing had gotten a little easier.  As Percival massaged just above his hips, smoothed his fingers back and forth, Credence felt the tension seeping out of his muscles, his body going loose and pliant.

Credence let it all happen, let Percival touch him how he wanted, _let_ himself give in to the wash of sensation as Percival’s fingers trailed up and down his sides, almost tickling, circled his waist, smoothed over his chest.  He could feel the heat filling him up again, spreading through him, and he let it.  He moved with the soft pressure at his cheek as Percival turn his head to the side, gasping as he kissed along the line of his jaw, leaving little wet spots that went cold when the air touched them.  Percival gently tugged his open collar aside just as the hint of his – of his teeth scraped over the base of his neck, followed immediately by the soft wetness of his tongue, and Credence was fairly certain that if he hadn’t been pressed so close between Percival and the wall he wouldn’t have remained upright.  Credence didn’t know how long it lasted, all he knew was that he never wanted it to stop. 

He had a dim awareness of the walk back to his dormitory, but a much more vivid memory of Percival.  Percival’s arm tight around his waist in the dark corridor, breath hot in his ear – _“That’s right Credence, good, so good – magic is your birthright, you’re meant to be here – doing so well – Shh, shh, I’ve got you, just relax, that’s right”_ – whispering so much praise that Credence was dizzy with it.  Credence was leaning against a wall again – no, against his door frame this time – when he felt Percival slip something into his pocket.  As his hand brushed over the handle of his wand he realized hazily that he hadn’t spared a thought for where it was since… since Percival had taken it from his hand.  And then he realized he didn’t care, because Percival leaned his weight against him, slid a hand around the base of his throat, and licked deep into his mouth one last time before vanishing up the darkness of the stairwell, leaving Credence’s lips buzzing with the feeling of his tongue and the rest of him cold in the absence of Percival’s touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Percival is definitely not doing this for Credence.  
> There will be a third part to this, because… I couldn't think of a good reason why not.
> 
> Find me on tumblr as [mercurial-tenacity](http://mercurial-tenacity.tumblr.com/).


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added tags for this chapter include panic attacks and dissociation, so take care.

Midterm exams came upon them, leaving less time than ever for either talking or kissing.  Or any activity that didn’t involve textbooks.  Percival did keep touching Credence, though.  Some of it was kissing, but it was also fingers resting on his forearm, and a hand on the back of his neck in reassurance.  And Credence liked it.  He – he did like it.  Most of the time, he liked it.  It didn’t always make it easy to concentrate on last minute studying, but there was nothing much to be done about that.  And anyway, having Percival touch him was far, far better than not being touched at all.

Credence made it through his exams relatively unscathed.  He’d managed to perform his Banishing charm adequately, if not well – it had become something of a block for him – he’d remembered all of his potion ingredients, and his slippers were completely devoid of rabbit ears.  Overall he felt he’d achieved a major victory, if not a minor miracle.  The school always felt different right after exams, as all the tension building in the halls suddenly released, and everyone pretended for at least a week that they wouldn’t have to do it all over again at the end of term.  Credence certainly was relieved that exams were over, but there was a tension in him still that exams hadn’t eased.

It was at the end of the weekend, after most of the parties had faded out but left a buzz of relief and excitement in the air, and after Percival found Credence and secured them in a secluded corner, that Credence finally felt the last of his own tension uncurling.  They talked late into the night, absent discussions of classes, careers, magical inventions.  Percival held Credence’s hand palm up in his own, absently tracing a pattern of circles and triangles with his wand tip.  He wasn’t using a spell, but everywhere his wand touched warmed Credence’s palm with the residue of magic.  As Credence listened to Percival’s voice in the dim warmth of the common room, sinking deep into the cushions of his chair, it seemed that maybe, just maybe, things would be all right.

Classwork started to pick up again, but Credence didn’t mind.  Even though he didn’t always enjoy the late nights and long hours, he was glad for the routine.  It was amazing the sheer amount of energy unpredictability took.  So he settled back into a pattern.  Class, dinner, homework – sometimes Percival.  Percival was still unpredictable, but that was all right.  Percival was busy, Credence understood.

Percival did make time for Credence though, to his relief.  Tonight in particular was being spent studying, interspersed with conversation and clarifying questions, and it was nice.  Having Percival reading beside him, listening to the rustling of pages, working through the interesting aspects of transfiguration theory, Credence felt… well.  Glad.

Percival’s hand rested on Credence’s leg, had for a while now, fingertips just touching the inside of his knee.  It felt nice, made the edges of his consciousness soft and hazy, and he pressed into it a little as he wrote.  _Transfiguration requires a complex balance between wand power, concentration…_ Percival traced circles into his knee, stealing away his train of thought, as for a moment the only thing in his mind was the feeling of Percival’s fingertips.  Credence took a breath.  He wasn’t entirely sure how he was supposed to think while Percival was doing that, but he kept writing.  …c _oncentration, and subject.  With a living subject…_ Credence gasped, flushing hotly as Percival’s fingers moved, dragging up his leg to mid-thigh, and there was no way he could keep writing through _that._

“P – Percival!”

Percival glanced at him, without half the urgency Credence was feeling.  “Hmm?”  His hand didn’t stop, stroking back down to his knee and up again, as Credence struggled to think of words that could answer Percival’s questioning gaze.

Percival caught his look, and his expression softened indulgently.  “Credence.”  Percival squeezed his knee, briefly interrupting the movement of his hand.  “What’s wrong?  You said you liked it.”  He had, he had said that.  And he did, he just – he had an essay to work on, that was all, if it wasn’t for the essay he was sure he’d like it.

“You don’t have to feel bad about it,” Percival pressed on.  “We talked about this.  It’s all right.”

Of course it was all right.  Percival had explained it.  He was a wizard, there was nothing wrong with it.  He must have forgotten, and now that he remembered he – he’d feel better.

“Don’t you like it?”

Not quite breathing, Percival’s hand tracing patterns up and down his thigh, he nodded.

Percival turned back to his book, and very deliberately, Credence took a breath.  He took up his quill.  It wasn’t a big deal, there was no reason for it to be a big deal.  It was just – just – whatever it was.  Closing his eyes for a moment, breathing again, he set his quill to parchment.  _With a living subject, it is important to consider the detriment –_ no, that wasn’t right at all – _the determination of the subject to remain in its original form.  Particularly with Switching spells –_ or was it Vanishing spells?  He knew it, he did, he just – he shuffled through his notes, and realized halfway through that he wasn’t reading any of them.  How could Percival possibly be concentrating on his textbook if Credence couldn’t even read through a page of his own notes?  Percival’s hand slid across the outside of his thigh and settled on his hip.  He was running his thumb over the crest of Credence’s hipbone, brushing the tips of his fingers just under the hem of his shirt – why hadn’t he tucked in his shirt today? – sending shivers through his whole body.  And he must have made a sound, must have gasped, because Percival was there with an arm around his shoulders, smoothing his hair back, telling him it was all right, and Credence was leaning into Percival by instinct and burying his head in his shoulder.

Everywhere Percival touched him lit up like a warm glow under his skin, and he didn’t understand why his stomach was twisting.  Why he couldn’t meet Percival’s gaze, even as Percival cupped his cheeks and pulled back to look at him, looked at him with that expression that Credence still didn’t really understand, but was coming to know.

Percival’s fingers curled under Credence’s chin and his thumb traced over his lips so lightly it almost tickled.  Percival seemed to like touching his lips.  He pressed down and Credence let his mouth fall open, expecting to feel Percival’s lips on his own.  But Percival pushed his thumb forward, ran it over the wet inside of his lip, grazing over his teeth, until the pad of his thumb rested on Credence’s tongue.  He ran it back and forth, soft little movements that had Credence’s whole mouth tingling and loose.  Percival held him like that, letting his jaw just rest in his hand, lips still buzzing with sensation.  Credence could feel the saliva building uncomfortably in his mouth, and he didn’t know what to do with his tongue.  He closed his eyes.  Percival’s breath was hot on his cheek, ghosting over his mouth, and Credence leaned into it as Percival’s lips and tongue replaced his thumb.  The warm, familiar pressure of Percival’s lips was a relief, and Percival’s tongue flicking over the tip of his own, sending sparks through his mouth just like it had that first time, had him melting forward into Percival’s arms.  Percival’s hand was cupping his cheek, thumb still wet from Credence’s mouth, and it left a patch of his skin cold.  He let himself float on the feeling of being secure in Percival’s arms, held close and safe.  He’d stopped thinking all that coherently a little while ago, but if he didn’t like it, he reasoned, how would it be possible for Percival to make him feel so good?

Percival’s hands were on his neck, thumbs running under his jaw, then his palms were running down his chest, pushing him back into the chair.  He pressed into the touch, not fighting the pressure of Percival’s hands on him, but following the sensation.  He felt Percival’s arms wrap around his back, and there was nothing, nothing like having Percival stroke between his shoulder blades and wrap an arm around his waist.  Percival held him like that for a moment, and it made Credence feel small, in a way.  Not insignificant, the opposite actually – with Percival around him he felt encompassed, surrounded, and soft.

Percival’s hands settled on his hips, fingertips brushing back and forth, and then – then rested as bright, hot points on his skin, sitting just under the hem of his shirt.  Credence was dizzy, lightheaded, and it took him longer than it should have to realize his lungs didn’t seem to be working.  Percival’s lips pressed warm and wet against his cheek, his jaw, his lips, Percival’s hands drew slowly up, up to his waist, and Percival – Percival was so close that Credence could feel Percival’s hair brushing his forehead, tickling.  Was it any surprise he couldn’t breathe?  Percival’s finger’s had reached far past the edge of his shirt now, pressing into his bare skin and it felt – not different, but _more_.  His skin was on fire under Percival’s hands, hot sensation spreading out and sinking deep, deep into him.  And yes, the sensation was more intense, but it was more – more intimate, too.  He had never considered what that might mean, and he wasn’t sure why a layer of fabric made so much difference but oh, it did.

His head seemed to spin, and he couldn’t quite figure it out – was this still _just kissing_?  He couldn’t keep a thought in his head for more than a second though, Percival just didn’t stop moving his hands.  Percival stroked over his hips again, brought his hands around his waist, fingers pressed into the small of his back in that spot that made Credence feel like he was about to come apart and had him panting soft gasps into Percival’s mouth.  He couldn’t make himself be still, couldn’t stop his body from pressing into Percival and into each touch of his hands, squirming as sparks shot up and down his spine.  Percival’s hands were running up his sides, the fabric of Credence’s shirt was starting to bunch uncomfortably around his torso but that – that didn’t matter as Percival stroked over his ribs, tracing each dip and ridge, following each line, setting his skin buzzing and sending shivers all through him.  He felt as though he’d been laid bare, exposed under Percival’s touch, Percival seeming intent on searching out each feature of Credence’s body with his fingers.  He was completely open, open to whatever Percival wanted from him, any last semblance of control he had melting away with Percival’s fingers on his skin.

Percival followed the line of Credence’s ribs up to his chest, pressed his palm over Credence’s thudding heart.   He could feel it beating against Percival’s hand, the pressure seeming to amplify and build with each passing second.  And Percival dragged his fingers down, down the center of his chest, tracing a line straight through him, down to his stomach, as his other hand circled each vertebra in Credence’s spine.  It was _so much,_ and there was nothing Credence could do but force out gasping breaths in time with Percival’s hands, close his eyes, and let his thoughts fade away with the feel of Percival’s weight against him.

And it was fine.  He was fine.

The next day was not fine.  Charms, specifically, was not fine.  There had been plenty of mishaps in lessons before – fires, loud bangs, one time the classroom had filled with purple smoke so thick they’d had to carry on the lesson in the corridor.  This was worse.  Credence didn’t know how it happened.  They weren’t even practicing anything dangerous, when had anybody ever blown up a classroom with a Shield charm?  Well, strictly speaking, he knew he hadn’t.  He hadn’t actually managed to cast a Shield charm, and he wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse.  But he’d been attempting it, concentrating – or trying to anyway – and the hand that had fallen on his shoulder from behind felt like something breaking inside.  His chest tightened, he couldn’t breathe, and something in him _slipped –_ He didn’t have a distinct memory of what happened directly afterward.  He’d been at the hospital wing, his head of house had been there, he’d heard people talking about him, people talking to him, and through it all his own voice in his ears repeating _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry_.  Not that being sorry had ever made a difference before.  _I’m so sorry, please –_

He didn’t think he was being expelled.  He’d heard people saying things like _damage can be repaired,_ and _no lasting injuries,_ so maybe he’d get to stay.  He kept forgetting to listen to what people were saying to him somewhere in the middle of sentences though, and his head felt fuzzy, like he wasn’t quite anchored in space, so he wasn’t sure.  He was apologizing, he knew he was, but for some reason it seemed to be something his mouth was doing on its own.  He wasn’t actually sure if he felt anything in particular.  Probably he should.  He tried to work it out, what exactly he should be feeling, but he couldn’t seem to focus enough to do it. 

They let him go, eventually – he wasn’t actually injured, after all.  He got the impression, in the distant part of his mind which was still thinking about such things, that they didn’t quite know what to do with him.  Had they ever?

Percival found him in his dormitory.  That was where they’d taken him, and he didn’t really think he had to stay, but he also didn’t have anywhere else in particular to go.

“Credence.”

Percival didn’t have to ask what happened, the whole school must know by now.  At least that saved Credence having to explain it.  He heard the sound of Percival’s boots on the floor, stopping in front of him, and Percival knelt down to where Credence was huddled against the side of his bed.  He wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up on the floor, but there he was.  Percival’s hand on his shoulder made him flinch.  He wanted to start apologizing again, but the only sound he could seem to make was a sort of gasping sob.

“Oh, Credence.”

Percival was beside him, hand still holding him, pulling Credence close against his chest and guiding his head to rest on his shoulder.  And as Percival’s arms encircled him something in him shifted, and he was clinging to Percival’s robes, tears running down his face.  His stomach churned and his heart was rebelling against the tightness of his chest, he didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know what had _happened._   And through it all, the undercurrent of shame that even now, even after _years,_ he couldn’t control his own magic.  Like a child.

The room was tilting precariously, he clung to Percival tighter, the only thing within reach that wasn’t sliding away.

“I c – can’t leave, I – I can’t, Per – Percival, I can’t be a no-maj.”

“No, Credence, no.”  Percival was stroking his hair, running his fingers through it slowly, fingertips pressing into his scalp.  “You’re better than that, Credence.  Of course you can’t leave, you’re above them now.”

He wanted to believe it, he wanted so, so much for his life to be more than fear and doubt and desperate need.  He wanted the life he’d seen in his head when they first told him he was a wizard, when he realized he was leaving home, when Percival had described in glorious detail the magical world that was waiting for him.  He wanted it so much he was choking on it.  “I don’t want to go back.  I can’t.” 

“Don’t you understand?  What you did was incredible, Credence.  You really think a no-maj could do that?  They don’t have the willpower, never mind the magic.”  Percival’s voice was gentle, calm – Percival was always so calm – but what had Credence done?  He’d lost control, hadn’t he, and wasn’t that just the opposite of willpower?

“I don’t – Percival, I don’t under –”

“Shh.”  Percival’s hand slid from his hair to press against the back of his neck, firm, reassuring.  “The sheer power you have in you, Credence.  You can learn to control it, but first you need to have it.  Credence,” Percival took him by the shoulders, tilted his chin up so that their eyes met.  “You do.”

And maybe he did.

“I know the others don’t see it, Credence.  Your professors, your classmates, they ignore it.  They don’t have the vision to recognize what you could be, even now.  You could have learned so much more by now, not trivia like Cheering charms and conjuring tricks but _real magic,_ Credence.  Real power.  Don’t you want that power?”

He did, of course he did.  He wanted to be in control, and he wanted to be safe, and he wanted the twisting whirling rushing in his head to _stop._ “Yes, yes, please.  Percival, help me, please.”

“Of course.  Of course I will.  I’m here for you.  Even when the others aren’t, I’m here.”

Credence was grateful, so grateful for Percival, overwhelmed with relief such that it made him cry more.  And it was true.  He clung to Percival, laying in his arms and crying into his shirt, and he knew it was true.  Percival was there for him.  Percival cared about him.  And Percival could help him, Percival _would_ help him, even when no one else would.  Percival would help him be safe.

Percival stroked the back of his neck, pressed kisses to his forehead, and Credence closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Credence.
> 
> Thanks to everybody for reading! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> Come say hi on tumblr

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, Percival is not keeping him safe.


End file.
